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If we asked for information as to where our division was, they shook their heads stupidly, too indifferent with weariness to reply. We found the Town Mayor; all that he could tell us was that our division wasn't here yet, but was expected any day probably it was still on the line of march. Our lorry-driver was growing impatient.
We understood that they were pulling out from an offensive in which they had received a bad cutting up. To my overstrained imagination it seemed that the men had the vision of death in their eyes. Presently we spotted a lorry-driver who had, what George Robey would call, "a kind and generous face."
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